“Hey, Muddy! I heard you pretty much conceded to James Raven in a promo earlier…”

I say while opening the door to Muddy’s apartment and struggling to get it all the way open as a wealth of crushed beer cans and various other trashes piled up beside and underneath it. My face turns at the rancid smell of Muddy’s slumber; you’d think I’d be used to it by now, it’s almost like I forget every time that there was an at least decades old dead body in Muddy’s bathroom for weeks.

I don’t see Muddy in his living room, only an infestation of torn up GQ mags, empty hair gel bottles and more crushed beer cans. I head my way towards the kitchen in the back,

“…probably a good idea too…”

I continue speaking,

“…James Raven is a straight up badass; so really, there’s no shame in taking the night off on Saturday and just letting him win. It’s probably a wrap already anyhow ya know?”

How fucking perfect would it be if Muddy were to just no-show a main event match on national television, we’d certainly be getting closer and closer to his total collapse, and with the plan I have cooked up for Warfare next week, Dolly Waters will have no choice but return to the XWF to salvage her legacy.

The kitchen is just as, if not more disgusting than his living room. Chicken feathers are spread out all over the floor along with what appears to be droplets of blood. I speak up louder:

“Muddy! Where you at man? I know Raven is a certified un-fucking-stoppable force of nature, but you shouldn’t let it get you down man…”

An excruciating and horrid sound of unloved, rage filled teenager menstrual tears suddenly catches my ear,

"I TWY SO HAWWWWD-GOT SO FAWWWWW!"

Ahhh- god, it's fucking awful!

"Muddy?! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

It's coming from the back porch. Clutching my ears I step out through the back door in the kitchen and there I see him laying in a shallow kiddy pool in the back yard.

“Muddy!”

He doesn’t move.

I walk towards him- he’s totally nude aside from a pair of those free plastic sunglasses you get from banks and a mound of empty beer cans luckily covering his genitalia. Laying next to the pool on the ground is a battery powered boom box- hadn’t seen one of these in a while- blaring...

“Linkin Park?”

I sigh and make peculiarly agitated face. This choice in music all but confirmed my long standing suspicion that Muddy was secretly a homosexual. Seriously. What type of man actually enjoys this garbage?

As I reach towards the boom box to turn it off-

”Brian?”

I startle a bit a reach back,

“Shit, Muddy. You spooked me bro.”

”Brian, if you was an insecure, generic piece of shit who had a chance to pretend you was a badass and could remake yer’ image- like say fer’ a movie or somethin’- who would you wanna look like?”

“Like if I were wanting to be a basic bitch? Like the generic good looking tough guy schtick?”

”Mmmhmmm”

“Fuck I dunno.... Ryan Reynolds?”

”Thats what I thought.”

“I’d probably listen to Linkin Park too. Make one of thier songs the theme to my life.”

”got’damn skippy you would.”

“Muddy, is what you’re saying have anything to do with why you’re lying outside with a shit ton of product in your hair trying to get a tan? Like living your redneck version of the overplayed perfectly generic douchebag life?”

”it’s the only way I can survive damnit! It’s whats over! This is the end of Muddy Waters as you knew em, Brian. From now on imma’ be a badass expert of all thangs irrelevant who sits in a dark room havin conversations with my own long haired, likely homosexual, alter ego. We’s gunna placate to a tiny percentage of snarky douches who will pick up on the irrelevance of what we’re sayin and chuckle like fags while the rest of the world thinks about what a rim job would feel like.”

“Nah, Muddy. You wouldn’t do that... you may be a total dumbass, but even you wouldn’t consider doing something that damn . Now let’s get your ass up and get you ready for your loss, mkay?”

”alright then”

Muddy stands up, reveling that he’s totally shit the bed, I mean pool...

”Aye did you hear Ravens promo, by the way?”

“No. Was it good?”

”Yeah, I think. I just ain’t understood none of it, he said erikblack never said nothin ill towards no one.”

“You probably misunderstood, Muddy. Now come on, let’s get you cleaned up. You e got a title to go shit on.”

“Yer’ right... gunna be strange gettin’ beat up by a queer and such.